Fandom: Dragonball Z
Genre: Humor (read that as CRACK)
Publish Date: 10/29/2002 to 1/5/2003
Disclaimer: A, B, C, D, E, F, G, I do not own DBZ.
Where the hell are we?" Vegeta snarled at the two teenagers.
Candyland smiled. "Welcome to Iowa, Veggie boy."
Everyone except Gohan looked lost.
The author rolled her eyes. "Iowa. Ya know, one of the United States. We grow a lot of corn and soybeans and stuff? Ringing any bells?"
Gohan nodded fervently, while everyone still looked lost. Goku had just started drooling at the mention of corn. Fred the Mutant Pickle just groaned. "Goku, wipe that up, would ya?"
Candyland ignored the confusion and the puddle forming in the grass at Goku’s feet and continued. "We’re in the Northwest part of the state. It’s pretty urban here. This is the marching band practice field, and at the top of that hill over there is a nice building. That’s my high school."
"So we ended up in your city at your school? Is that it?" Bulma demanded. Upon affirmation, she gave the author a very suspicious look. "But how did we get here?"
The look on Candyland’s face must have said it all, and the blue-haired woman groaned out loud. "You were writing another story, weren’t you? Why can’t you just leave us alone?"
"I got the first chapter written, and then I got distracted," the author shrugged, as if she really didn’t care one way or another. "And besides, it’s so much fun pulling this kinda stuff on you guys. Give me some credit for creativity here."
"No," Vegeta growled, but he was silenced by a stern look from Fred. Choosing self-preservation over invoking a fanfic writer’s anger, he wisely changed the subject. "So what do we do now?"
Fred and Candyland exchanged a look, and finally the latter sighed and shrugged. "I really don’t know. We have to go to school all day today. I’d have to take some time, sit down, and write you all back. But that’s a pretty specific task, and that kind of time isn’t something I really don’t have right now." She cringed, then sighed again. "I guess you’ll just have to come with one of us today."
Immediately, Candyland and Fred got into a nice argument as to who would be stuck with the strange assortment of fighters who had managed to land in the middle of the marching band practice field. After a long, loud struggle, Candyland threw her hands up in the air. "All right, I’ll take em!"
Several cries of protest from the Z fighters met her ears, and she held up a hand to cut them all off. "No arguments. I don’t like it either. Believe me, I have enough to worry about without having to drag you guys around, but there’s just not another way. And anyway, band’s over. The bell’s gonna ring in about five minutes, so we’d all better head up to the school."
Everyone grudgingly agreed, and Goku walked forward and clapped a hand on the two teenagers’ shoulders so hard that both were pushed over, ending up facedown in the dirt. Completely oblivious to the state of the two authors, he began talking. "Well, hey, I can get us up there in no time. Grab on." The whole gang held on, with the kids reaching down to grab the semiconscious teenagers.
An instant later, the whole gang was standing in the middle of the band room. A teenage guy with a few papers in his hand and a makeshift necklace made of a notecard that read "Office Worker" looked at them in shock, then slowly backed out of the room before turning and running down the hall.
Groaning, Candyland slowly staggered to her feet. "Ugh…did somebody get the number of that bus…oww…I’m okay…"
Fred was having a similar problem standing up, and began weaving all around the room. "Ooo…that really stings…ouch…"
Finally, they managed to climb to their feet, and both gave Goku an extremely angry glare. The Saiyan merely looked confused. "What? What did I do?"
Shaking their heads and rolling their eyes, the two teenagers stalked angrily out of the room, muttering something under their breath that not even Piccolo’s superb Namekian hearing could quite catch. And truth be told, none of them were absolutely certain that they wanted to hear what was going through the minds of the now-angry fanfiction authors.
Cautiously, the Z senshi followed the teenagers out into the hallway and watched Candyland open her locker and start pulling things out. The rest of the band students were just starting to trickle in from their long march up the sidewalk from the practice field to the school. (AN: It’s about a three-minute walk, which is quite a bit when you’re carrying three flags or a bass drum or a tuba) Within moments, the teenage girl had a bright yellow backpack slung over her shoulder, stuffed full of what Gohan guessed was books, the black sweatshirt that read "Flag Corp" down the sleeve, and a small gray purse. She’d also changed shoes, and was now looking at them in some manner of annoyance.
"Well, let’s go," she sighed nervously as the bell rang, signalling the end of first period. A silent prayer raced through Candyland’s mind as she headed towards the commons. Please don’t blow anything up…oh god, this is gonna be a long day…